Raven's Knot
by The lunatic who cares
Summary: If he wasn’t smart enough to figure the signal out then he didn’t get to come in and it was his loss. She really hoped he was smart enough.
1. Raven's Knot

**Title:** Raven's Knot

**Disclaimer:** Buffy and co aren't my idea, neither is the title (that's Robin Jarvis) but since I'm allowed to play…

**Notes: **I'd come up with the names before I played on a website which told me my pornstar name was Layla Foxxx… Freaky dude, freaky… I don't want to spoil the story but for those of you have read the rest of my stuff or don't like 'extra' characters, don't worry, it's not like that. Really! I mean it may seem like that but it'll change. Promise.

Spike flicked his lighter shut as he took a long drag on his cigarette. The hiss of long grass caught his attention and turning his head his eyes discovered a group of five demons. They were talking, in their own unique language, as they walked passed him, completely oblivious to his presence. Spike narrowed his eyes as the disappeared from sight. He couldn't understand what they'd been saying but they had clearly been excited about something.

Sliding off the headstone he'd been sitting on Spike followed the demons through the graveyard into the woods set behind them, blowing his supposed meeting with the Slayer. She was already an hour late and Spike was very disinclined to let her find him still waiting like a whipped puppy. The only reason he had been waiting as long as he had was that he had nothing remotely interesting else to do. Now he did.

Silently tailing the demons Spike was led through the woods into a huge clearing at its centre and as the demons continued to walk into the clearing, Spike stopped under one of the last trees. Towards the back of the clearing was a huge structure, almost two storeys tall, decked out with huge lights and speakers; a stage. On stage was a drum kit, a good number of guitars, a keyboard and microphones. In front of the stage were at least fifty different varieties of demons, all talking animatedly.

Five people walked onto stage and took up their positions at certain instruments and microphones. Spike could just distinguish that one man had a head microphone on and he greeted the audience,

"Evening! Welcome to our first concert on the Hellmouth here in Sunnydale. We, if you hadn't already guessed, are Raven's Knot."

A loud cheer went up from the gathered masses.

"Thanks for that, makes this all the easier," the man said with a slight laugh. "Now the rules… Yeah, yeah I know boring but we have 'em for a reason . No killing or fighting. All those involved get thrown out, no exceptions. No storming the stage, if we want you up here we'll pick you out and _if_ we do that the rest of you behave!"

Spike decided, as the man introduced the members of the band, that he'd stay and enjoy the free entertainment while it lasted. He wandered into the crowd, keeping an eye out for anyone who decided a 'traitor' like him didn't deserve to be here but despite a few glances his way no one paid him any attention. Spike cocked his head to one side as the band struck up their first song and frowned. He could vaguely recall this song but couldn't place why until he heard a demon whisper 'Pink Floyd' and it fell into place. They weren't original songs but covers of them. Good covers Spike had to admit and he understood the bands popularity because demons couldn't turn up at human concerts all too well so therefore they missed the whole live performance thing.

His wandering had led him through the crowd to the stage and its projection that ran about twenty metres into the audience. Using his elbows and a few underhand tactics learnt at Woodstock Spike got himself into a prime stop at the end of the stage extension in time for the lead singer's announcement.

"Now a change of scenery folks," his hand rose to his microphone as he spoke. "I'm going to pass you over to Layla. Enjoy!"

A woman who had been playing the keyboards walked over to the man, amidst the cheering, and took the head microphone off him, installing it on her own head.

"Thank you," she smiled. "I'll get straight to it shall I?"

Admist the cheering the music started up and the woman launched into the singing with a will. Spike tapped his fingers against the metal railing holding the crowd back from the stage in time to the beat of the music, thoroughly enjoying himself for once.

_And I am, I feel, like,_

_I wanna bite his head off,_

_Yeah that'd be fun!_

The woman, Layla, danced around the stage a lot more than her male counterpart had and was drawing a few wolf whistles and cheers from the drunker contingent of demons. She smiled at the noises but did nothing to really whip the demons into an excitable and dangerous mass. Making her way down the projection, moving in time to the music, Spike could clearly see she was taking pleasure in what she was doing.

_I clicked my heels together three times,_

_They sparked a little,_

_But nothing happened,_

_And the Big Bad Wolf's still in my bed._

She flashed a smile at Spike before moving away and Spike grinned. He knew that the smile had been directed at him, nobody else, and to be singled out like that was a rare privilege at such a busy concert.

Spike took the time to study her under the bright lights. Blonde hair, full lips and an almost perfect hourglass figure with long legs bringing her to his height. The way she held herself, the curve of her neck when she turned and blue eyes that sparkled with mischief, promising a man a night to remember. All in all a beautiful woman and she could sing, dance, entertain. Spike wondered whether he could meet this woman.

Hours later he could feel the dawn approaching but was loathed to leave as the concert was still in full swing. He had seen other vampires reluctantly leaving already but still he stayed and luck seemed to favour him as Layla announced that this was the last song.

_Oh yeah,_

_Then she flicked her hair._

_Oh yeah,_

_He began to stare._

She danced around each of the other band members, a smile on her face, and they leant into her, regardless of sex. Layla twirled away from each of them after a line or two of song and worked her way across stage until she stood above Spike on the end of the projection for the last third of the song.

_There's gotta be a way to cool this clown,_

_He's starting to embarrass me._

_I may even have to hose him down._

_Bring me water!_

_I don't know what he finds so distracting._

_What's so hot about her?_

_I really don't like the way he's acting._

_Bring me water!_

_Bring it on!_

The last beats hit out hard and loud, Layla's body jumping with them until she stood, head thrown back, arms outstretched and a thunderous applause broke out from the audience. Spike showed his appreciation along with the rest, throwing out a few piercing wolf whistles, but he watched the way her chest heaved as she breathed, breasts rising and falling, illuminated in the bright lights. He wanted this woman.

Layla could feel her heart pounding inside her chest over the cheering and calls for encores. Jeremy fielded the requests with his usual grace and style while she just smiled and regained her breath, eyes glancing around the crowd, until they spotted the man she had smiled at earlier. He was still standing right at the end of the projection, despite his slim build and shorter stance than most of his demon compatriots. Layla figured to be strong enough to hold the sort after place he had to be a vampire but a fleeting look at the sky showed it softening towards dawn. He was brave to still be here now. A corner of her mouth curved slightly as their eyes met and he quirked an eyebrow at her.

In a gesture that could have been taken to just be her sweeping her hair off her face, Layla gestured to the backstage before turning and striding up the projection. If he wasn't smart enough to figure the signal out then he didn't get to come in and it was his loss. She really hoped he was smart enough.

She joined the rest of the band in the wings, smiling and exchanging a few words with them before heading out into the corridor where their temporary rooms were. At the far end of the corridor was a door leading outside and a guard was posted on it to stop gatecrashers. Layla smiled as she walked to it. She was, as always, buzzed from the performance and the guard knew she might invite someone backstage. As well as beginning a huge, door-blocking body the guard was also a lie detector machine. If someone said Layla had gestured them in then in they could come.

Her timing was near perfect because she was a couple of metres away from the door when it opened and in strode the vampire. At her height, dressed in solid black, leather duster slapping the door as it closed, full bottom lip, sharp, sharp cheekbones and the most piercing, knowing blue eyes she had ever seen, he was damn close to what she wanted.

"Like the show?" she asked, eyes raking up his body.

"Love it pet," his eyes took a similar tour of her body despite the fact that he must have watched her all night.

"So what do I call you?" she leant casually against one wall. "Vampire's too generic and pet names only come after some _interaction_."

"The name's Spike," the vampire tilted his head to one side as he considered her. "I know what to call you, well for now but I'm sure I'll be able to think of something catchy after that _interaction_ of yours."

"LAYLA!" a male voice yelled down the corridor.

The woman in question turned, rolling on her shoulder to look back up the passage. Jeremy beckoned her up the corridor with a crooked finger and she sighed before turning back to Spike.

"Second door on the left. Make yourself at home."

He leered slightly and she smiled. Oh she was going to enjoy this no doubt about it. She walked quickly back up the corridor to where Jeremy was waited, Spike on her heels for about ten metres before he disappeared into her room.

"Again Layla?" Jeremy asked quietly.

"Look Jer it's none of your business."

"You're my friend," the man looked sad and worried. "This is an addiction and you know it."

Layla ground her teeth together,

"Maybe but you know what I'm like if I don't. I can't perform and then what do we do? Starve and lose our reputation that's what! Just leave it alone."

"What is it this time?"

"Vampire."

Jeremy shook his head,

"One day you'll choose wrong and the same thing will happen…"

"As it did with Koda yeah I know, I know," Layla waved her hand. "Don't make me choose, I'm not that strong."

Jeremy's hand closed on her arm,

"Just be careful and remember we're right on hand if your need us."

Layla smiled, nodded, bounced back down the corridor and into her room, the door shutting with an audible click. Once inside she spied Spike sitting on her chair, sprawled with easy grace and slowly stalked over to him.

"So what now then?" he asked casually.

"Well we've done the talking bit of the _interaction _so I think now comes the physical contact," Layla was kneeling above him suddenly, legs either side of him. "What'd'ya reckon?"

Spike's fingers trailed up her calves from her ankles to her knees where his whole hands came into play as they continued up her thighs, pushing up the hem of her skirt. He leant up slightly, body following the movement of his arms,

"I reckon to do that we need to lose the clothes luv."

"Oh I thought that this," Layla dipped her head and pressed her lips to his. "Was next on the list."

Spike's hands moved over her ass, up her spine to her head and neck where he brought her back down into his reach. The kiss was powerful and hard, both seeking to dominate the other. Layla ran her tongue over Spike's teeth before their tongues met and battled each other.

Spike shot forward out the chair and pinned Layla to the floor in a hard motion. She simply let out a breathy moan and hooked her arms around him as the kiss continued. His hands pushed her top up her stomach, over her breasts until it was bunched in his hand and he ripped it away, her body jerking from the force. A black bra was revealed and Spike outlined it's shape on her body before he growled, fingers curling under the scrap between her breasts.

Layla arched up against him, inviting him to tear the bra in the same way, as her fingers ran over the leather on his back. The underwear shredded under the pressure and Layla pushed Spike back up into a sitting position so she could rid him of the coat and t-shirt. She trapped his arms briefly in the sleeves before Spike tensed his arms and broke free, more black fabric littering the ground. Layla's fingers' found the belt and she grabbed it hard, pulling Spike hard into her, between her legs.

"Fuck me," she growled at him.

Spike did as she asked, it was only polite.

-

Spike stirred, woken by the sound of a closing door. He rolled his head to one side to find himself alone in the bed and a glance around the room proved it was just as empty. Sighing he thumped his head back down onto the pillow and contemplated going back to sleep. Layla had proved highly exhaustive last night. Spike had dropped straight into unconsciousness with his last orgasm and had slept for over eight hours since.

The door clicked open and Spike grumbled quietly before sitting up. The lead male singer, Jeremy Spike remembered, was shutting the door behind him, eyes on Spike the whole time. The two exchanged once over's before glaring at each other.

"What the hell do you want?" Spike snarled, still tired.

"Enjoy _her_ last night?" Jeremy growled, clearly very, very angry.

"What is it to you?" Spike turned on the bed, feet hitting the floor.

The man stayed silent and Spike stalked over to him, naked but uncaring. He leant into the man and inhaled, getting mostly anger but under that there was sadness and something else buried far deeper. Spike cocked his head to one side.

"Why are you here?" Jeremy questioned in a rough voice.

"C'mon a pretty girl gives me eye I'm going to take advantage of it ain't I? Get all hot and sweaty as I…"

The fist came out of nowhere and Spike staggered back, hand flying to his jaw. Jeremy hadn't hit him hard enough to knock him to the ground but his hands were clenched at his sides as he struggled to control himself. Spike rubbed the spot as he realised what else there was to it.

"You want her don't you?" Spike taunted. "You want to hold her, touch her, drive into her…"

Spike dodged the fist this time but Jeremy, somehow, stopped himself from doing more. He tipped his head back, eyes shutting briefly.

"Layla is special," he met Spike's gaze. "Yes I want her but she'd never know. I'm not going to ruin a friendship because of her problem."

"Problem?" tripped out of Spike's mouth before he could stop it.

"You're not her first and won't be her last," the man's mouth quirked into a half grimace, half smile. "She was demanding wasn't she? Skipping the prelude, getting straight to it and then she wanted it again and again."

Spike nodded, mind replaying the evening, seeing the intensity anew but he didn't understand why.

"So what's her problem? Why is she like that then?"

"She craves sex. It's like a drug, addictive and destructive," Jeremy sighed suddenly. "She can't give up, go into withdrawal because the band would fall and we would be vulnerable so she hurts herself to keep us safe."

Spike watched Jeremy sit down in the very chair that last night had started in. Noticing his jeans Spike tugged them on and dropped onto the end of the bed, waiting for the next bombshell. He just knew there was more.

"Ask our hard core fans how many lead female singers we've had and they won't be able to count. Each has either perished by choosing the wrong partner or by giving up the music and fading away."

"Why the women? Why not you?" Spike spotted his cigarettes and dug one out.

Jeremy's mouth twitched slightly,

"Women are more sensual, more fluid, more the music than I could ever hope to be but the way we play… We are the music, we don't just make it."

"So Layla shags random men 'til they can't fulfil her need anymore than she moves on," Spike flicked open his lighter, flame bright in the dim room.

"_We_ move on, new town. Our rep needs maintaining and Layla can't be know as a whore," Jeremy rubbed his temple, looking tired and older.

"So that's why you play to demon hordes then, more stamina."

"We do human gigs too to get the money we need," Jeremy regarded Spike closely. "How long can Layla rely on you?"

"As long as you're in Sunnydale, if she'll have me," Spike took another drag on his cigarette. "But the Slayer will hear 'bout this you know."

"We're human enough," the man shrugged.

"Won't do your rep any good if your audience gets slaughtered," Spike pointed out, ash dropping from the glowing ember when he waved his hand.

"Same rules apply to everyone, including the Slayer," Jeremy smiled suddenly. "Oh and we can enforce our rules don't you doubt it."

Spike had the abrupt feeling that the man opposite him spoke the truth and used the movement of hand and cigarette to hide his uneasiness. Jeremy was still staring at him, eyes narrowed as if contemplating something about Spike.

"You know the Slayer don't you?"

"Every demon here does," Spike dismissed.

"I mean better than enemies," Jeremy pursed his lips.

"Maybe," Spike lifted one shoulder. "What's it to you?"

"Oh maybe we can do a deal."

"By what I can see mate you need me so I could call you on anything I wanted," Spike crushed the cigarette on the table in a hard, deliberate movement.

Jeremy stilled.

"The question becomes how much does Layla mean to you? How much are you willing to give?" Spike cocked his head to one side.

"Keep the Slayer away from us and the longer you can, the longer we stay, the longer you… get Layla, the longer we're stable," Jeremy stated flatly.

Spike smiled a wicked little smile,

"Sex on demand. Damn good payment."

Spike could hear the teeth grinding together from where he was sitting. He was enjoying this. It was almost as good as baiting Harris except this man had far more to lose and far more knowledge of how to deal with the likes of Spike.

"So where's she now?"

"Practicing for tonight's performance," Jeremy clicked his tongue against his teeth before rising. "I came to tell you to get out. Layla will throw you out if she finds you here."

"And why would she do that when she could get some more?" Spike smirked.

"She's not the same woman when she's not high," Jeremy stared down at the other man. "Why do you think she left this morning without a word?"

"'Cause she's a nice bint who could see I was tired," Spike shrugged.

"No because she was ashamed," Jeremy snapped, anger flaring.

"Nothing to be ashamed of," Spike shook his head, confusion on his face.

"Unless you're a woman who wanted nothing more than to sing and find one man to love and settle down with," Jeremy stormed to the door and wrenched it open. "Instead she's singing and using strangers to keep herself alive."

Spike opened his mouth but Jeremy was gone. The puzzlement was still written across his features. Why would a beautiful and horny woman like Layla be mortified of what she'd done? She had done it plenty of times before so she shouldn't…

"Oh yeah I get," Spike threw up his heads, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. "It's 'cause she _has_ done it lots of times before that she's embarrassed now. Bleedin' terrific!"

Spike routed round the room looked for his boots, duster and T-shirt. He found them all but the last came in five pieces. Grumbled he tugged his coat over his bare shoulders, the silk on the inside a cold but smooth caress on his skin, not that made him feel better. Last night he may have got laid but now he was about to toast his ass cause he had to go outside into the sun.


	2. No Answers

**Title: **Chapter 2 No Answers

**Disclaimer: **Joss is the Boss and I'm borrowing his masterpiece people for now.

**Notes:** Sorry it's short and choppy but it felt right to stop here.

"Spike!"

"Argh Slayer! Don't do that! Give a bloke a heart attack!" Spike yelled at the blonde woman in his crypt who had surprised him.

"You're dead moron," Buffy snapped. "And also where have you been? It's the middle of the day. You're supposed to be here."

"At your bloody beck and call," Spike sneered, shutting the door behind him and moving across the dusty floor.

"Where were you last night? You were meant to meet me in Restfield!" Buffy glared at the vampire's back.

"I waited for your skankyship for over an hour _after_ the time you said you were going to be there!" Spike spun around. "I'm not your whipped puppy; I've got better things to do with my time than hang around in cemeteries."

"That doesn't answer my question," Buffy continued to glare.

Spike snorted,

"Like I'm going to tell you anything about my private business 'cause it's just that, private!"

He dropped the blanket he'd been sheltering under to the floor then pulled his duster off and draped it over the green armchair before heading down the ladder into the basement section to get another T-shirt.

"Spike what on earth happened to your shirt?" Buffy stared at his naked torso.

"Why slayer?" Spike leered at her. "Enjoying the view?"

"In your dreams Spike!" Buffy wrinkled her nose.

Spike abruptly turned away. The Slayer had inadvertently hit close to home with that comment with that first dream having only been a week before. Maybe that's why he'd been so keen with Layla. Hiding from the truth wasn't a strong point but admitting he was in love with the Slayer? A shudder ran through his body and he hurried down the ladder to get away from the Slayer and her damn presence in everything he did.

Buffy was still waiting for him upstairs and Spike mentally sighed before slumping down into his chair, still tired from the previous night. He dug out cigarettes whilst he ignored Buffy talk and played with one. Despite everything people said about him and his bad habits Spike hated smoking in the crypt, made it smell and it added to the musty damp smell of the place.

A small part of what Buffy was saying got through his melancholy and drew Spike's attention.

"… demons were missing but there's no bodies or anything."

"This last night?" Spike interrupted.

"If you'd been listening ," Buffy scowled at him.

"Well you've got my attention now luv so start again," Spike put his cigarette down.

Buffy glared at him but needed his input so she began again,

"The reason we were meant to be meeting last night was because there has been no demons recently."

"No activity, nothing?" Spike frowned.

"No demons full stop," Buffy shook her head. "Nadda. What's going on?"

"What made last night so special?" Spike asked his own question to deflect hers.

"Beat up my very own snitch," Buffy grinned. "He said last night was special, that it started but that I couldn't go."

"He didn't tell you what though?" Spike tilted his head to one side. "Losing your touch Slayer."

"Said I wasn't as scary as they were," Buffy scowled. "What's going on?"

"What makes you think I know anything?" Spike tried to look innocent, something he didn't have a lot of practice in doing.

"'Cause you were out in the day," Buffy pointedly looked at the blanket at his feet.

Spike thought fast,

"I've noticed the drop in demons, saw some last night and followed 'em around but they didn't do much before they disappeared on me."

"Disappeared on you?" Buffy shook her head. "And you say I'm losing my touch."

Spike glared at the Slayer but she carried on regardless,

"So you were in Restfield when they appeared?"

Spike shook his head and lied,

"No much later than that."

If Buffy went looking around Restfield then she could stumble across the stage and Spike's deal with Jeremy could very well be blown.

"So where were you then?" Buffy folded her arms across her chest and her look said 'get this wrong and I'm kicking your butt'. Spike muttered something about impatient blondes under his breath before standing and striding over.

"You know what Slayer? Your high and mighty standing makes me very inclined to tell you to take a bloody hike!" Spike held up a warning finger when Buffy opened her mouth. "So what the demons have been slow? Ever think to count your lucky stakes and go do something that doesn't include cemeteries and annoying me?"

"If I find you're hiding something Spike…"

Spike rolled his eyes,

"When you've thought of something new and sparky to say Slayer come see me. Right now Passions is starting and you're going."

The small blonde woman narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips but left all the same. Spike sighed and slumped back into his chair. It had been a close call, too close, but it had raised one question that he had to answer. The snitch Buffy had beaten up had clearly been terrified of Raven's Knot, even more so than the impending danger of a pissed Slayer who is in the process of kicking the shit out of you. Spike knew that Jeremy in the very least gave off creepy vibes, but to be that frightening? What were they?

-

"I know that Spike can be very difficult Buffy but your informant did state that something special started last night and all demonic activity ceased last night," Rupert looked across the room to his Slayer. "Even Spike, himself, disappeared."

"I know Giles but he was so annoying I had to leave or we could have been looking at a real talkative pile of dust," Buffy sighed, waving a broadsword dismissively.

Rupert watched his Slayer step into her moves with a grace that showed her true strength, both in character and body and knew that Spike was always pushing his luck in aggravating Buffy. Some part of the watcher understood why Spike did what he did; it was his last bit of freedom and it must chafe at the vampire to know he was a traitor, reigned in by a piece of technology. To have the Slayer check on you and threaten you every week must be like having an annoying child poke you endlessly.

"Perhaps tonight you should follow Spike and see where he goes," he recommended.

"Awww Giles c'mon that's not fair," Buffy whined. "I'd have to be there before sunset and practically be invisible."

"Consider it training," Rupert suggested. "If Spike spots you then you can go together to where ever it is that he is heading and if he's evasive then you know he is hiding something."

"Can I beat him up if he doesn't talk?" Buffy perked up, pausing in her routine.

"Buffy I don't expect that will persuade him to be more forth coming in the future."

"Yeah but he's not gonna tell me now unless I beat him up or pay him and that'll be coming out of your pocket," the Slayer pointed out.

"Such a joyful experience," Rupert muttered. "And paying him is just ingraining the fact that we need him into his ego."

"But we do need him," Buffy sighed.

"Unfortunately."

-

"You did what?" Layla yelled, not caring that her voice was booming across stage.

"You would have kicked him out anyway," Jeremy shrugged.

"That's my business, not yours!"

"It's our business Layla," Jeremy pointed at her. "You are part of this family and we stand by each other."

"Jer has a point, regardless of whether you want to hear it or not," one of the other girls stepped up.

"Chrissy don't get involved please," Layla turned to the smaller woman.

"We love you Layla and we will always worry."

"Like you did for Koda?" Layla snapped, anger making her careless.

Chrissy drew back, hurt playing out on her face,

"Koda was a close friend to all of us Layla and we did all we could."

"Yet still she died," Layla wasn't backing down.

"You're just proving my point," Jeremy interrupted. "She died because she didn't let us help her. Just like you're doing."

Layla fell silent. She had known Koda briefly and had seen the way she had burned brighter than a raging fire. Her performances had been perfect but she was killing herself and one mistake led to her death, poisoned by a demon because they were incompatible. Layla wanted to perform like that but not to die. She was walking that line now and the others knew it, she knew it but the beat of the music burned her very soul, she couldn't stop, but if she didn't then she'd die.

One thing they had never been able to work out was why the music chose the person it did to channel through. It was never the men but it wasn't always the lead female singer either. It changed and with it the band altered; different drummer, different beat, music changes its host. Any women in the band were in danger of being chosen but the band didn't work without them. Each member was essential for the music to flow to the centre and without both sexes then the music stuttered and died.

Layla looked up at Jeremy and saw only worry for her. Jeremy had been in the band since its very beginning and the pain that he had to endure was incredible but never once did he fail to turn up to practice, never once did he talk about quitting. He was their rock.

Jeremy suddenly shook his head and strode away. All the other members of the band watched him walk off stage before getting on with what they had been doing. Chrissy turned back to Layla and stared at the woman.

"What?" Layla narrowed her eyes.

"He really cares you know," Chrissy said softly. "Try and see it."

With that she went back to her guitar and picked it up, hand running down the neck softly.

Layla hated hurting the friends that surrounded her and Jeremy was always the most understanding, always there for her, so he bore the brunt of her pain. Layla wondered why he stayed by her side through the roughest patches and suddenly an image hit her.

"_Again Layla?"_

In his eyes, under the sadness and worry, had been something else: Jealousy. Layla's eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open in shock. Jeremy was jealous of all the men in her bed? The understanding hit her like a freight train and she couldn't breathe. She'd never thought that he would want her. Was it just her or had it been every woman that had been the centre?

Layla thought back to Koda's time and what Jeremy had been like. She had seen nothing between except friendship and Layla thought she was pretty good at reading the signs other people gave off. Apparently it didn't apply when they were directed at her.


End file.
